


my lust is a tidal wave

by hollowpursuits



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Data’s Dick Vibrates, Established Relationship, M/M, Making out in the Jefferies Tubes, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Skant Uniform, wireplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 02:02:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30031350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollowpursuits/pseuds/hollowpursuits
Summary: Barclay puts on a skant and it doesn't go unnoticed by both of his partners.
Relationships: Data/Geordi La Forge, Reginald Barclay/Data/Geordi La Forge
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	my lust is a tidal wave

**Author's Note:**

> This got a little filthy !! Sorry :-) Also I dont know anything about star trek engineering science and it shows

Jefferies tubes were always cozy, to say the least; or at least they always were to Barclay. He never complained though, he would get in and out, without having to spend any more time than he needed to. It was his luck that he had a task to complete there with none other than Geordi.

Everything on the ship was remotely quiet, with most of the senior staff away planetside for a diplomatic mission and engineering had its own business to attend as usual, taking the chance to let the engines and the warp core breathe for a minute. Attending to some minor repairs, Geordi asked Barclay to accompany him. Or at least that’s how Barclay rationalized it in his head, but regardless, he always felt valued when Geordi specifically picked him out for tasks of importance. It made him feel valued and of course, working side by side with Geordi always made it feel like less of a shift and more like just spending time with him – except there were more wires than usual – and this moment was no outlier. Even just now, Geordi simply calling his name out made his nerves jump, in a vaguely unfamiliar way to their usual nature; it wasn’t followed by its usual wave of panic or guilt but rather a blanket of warmth. It only felt heavier when Geordi, mindlessly, as he usually did, grabbed him by the arm and led them to a nearby Jefferies tube; he let his held arm go limp, allowing Geordi to lead him wherever he needed.

At the mouth, he waited for Geordi to enter first – not without his signature awkwardness, his movements stammering along with his words. He was silently hoping that the chief would pick up the hint he was putting down; acknowledging the elephant in the hallway that was just barely covering his mid–thighs softly stained his cheeks a shade of pink. Geordi only smiled at him and broke the gaze, remembering their task at hand, and Barclay swiftly followed after him. The sudden dip of light took a minute for his eyes to get used to but he stayed focused. Or tried to, anyway. These passages were narrow and uncomfortable for nearly any member of the crew and Barclay was no exception, he felt especially constricted and none of it was easing the slight murmur of anxiety constantly pattering at the deepest corner of his chest. He was playing a game with balance, trying to remain far yet close enough to Geordi, and shuffling inside a tiny way all while trying to keep his idea of cool.

Upon finding the broken circuit, Barclay took initiative, moving forward, examining its insides while Geordi approached from behind carefully, eyes also fixated on the same spot. Due to the environment of the cramped crawlspace and the intricate detail needed, Barclay shuffled from his crawling position and opted to lie on his side, allowing him to get his hands in much more efficiently and, of course, Geordi followed suit. The fluorescent glow nearly blinded Barclay and its warmth paled in comparison to having Geordi so close to him, who was just behind; real or not, Barclay felt enveloped with a mellow aura.

“We need to reconfigure the inner mechanics — you got your coil spanner with you?”

Geordi’s voice was close, behind his ear and his low yet amiable tone made something in his chest restlessly stir. The dark, quiet cramped space and Geordi’s smooth voice were like a little hideaway and Barclay already felt melancholic at having to leave it sometime soon. He reasoned with himself, they could afford to work slower than usual; something about how working slow yet steady wins the race.

“Yeah. Except—,” his gears were turning, and his mouth moved faster than his inhibitions could to hold him back. “Could you just show me h–how to get it started? I sometimes tend to—tend to mess it up.” Geordi couldn’t see it but Barclay was blinking rapidly, looking down sheepishly almost as if he were batting his eyelashes.

Being the chief engineer, normally Geordi wouldn’t have time to tutor any crewman but right now he was picking up what Barclay was, albeit awkwardly, putting down. Part of him remained stoic at finishing the job as quickly as possible and the remaining majority worked hard to peel its attention off Barclay’s legs and onto the conduit. It was a fruitless battle. Besides, what was five more minutes of waiting time anyway?

Geordi inched closer, thinning the already narrow gap between his chest and Barclay’s back, and reached his arms over, demonstrating something Barclay knew and had done a hundred times over. The soft blue light glowed against his dark skin making him look almost elysian; Barclay had no choice but to stare on, mesmerized. Silently, he let his hands tentatively join his, the two of them working together in near silence. As Geordi’s breaths got audibly heavier thanks to the quietness, each hot puff riding against Barclay’s exposed neck made his skin feel hotter, making his own want more impatient, becoming harder to ignore.

Geordi moved his arm back, letting Barclay finish up the work and absentmindedly, amid the glow and the warmth and quiet seclusion, laid his hand on Barclay’s bare thigh where the hem had already ridden up a bit; he hadn’t noticed until he felt his hand there. It was warm and the pressure was nearly non–existent and yet it was like all his nerves were tuned into that area of his leg where the skin met Geordi’s; it made his head spin, and he let out a quiet gasp. Immediately realizing his unprofessionalism, Geordi yanked his hand back, apology at the tip of his tongue, whereas Barclay already missed the hand where it used to be; his skin still warm in the aftermath. Without thinking or looking back, with elevated anticipation building in him, he reached his left hand back and gently yet swiftly placed Geordi’s hand right where it was. Not having to face him allowed Barclay to act much braver than he normally could muster, now feeling how hot his face and neck felt.

Geordi was a little speechless but Barclay’s shy forwardness only made Geordi want him more, professionalism be damned.

He leaned closer, impossibly so, channeling all his energy to not let his deep voice waiver: “Make sure you seal that spot.” The sentence itself was simple, said a million times; it was all down to the _way_ Geordi chose to say it that made Barclay feel overwhelmed, just the heat of the sensations seared through him. He wanted to ruin their careful game and turn around but it felt too intricate to end it abruptly with an impulsion; even with both of their nerves nearly buzzing impatiently to touch each other. The tension between them was almost tangible, and it weighed heavily on both of them.

“Reg,” Geordi whispered, his hot breath brushing against his ear and Barclay inhaled sharply. “You look really sexy today.”

Barclay gripped the tool in his sweaty palm and swallowed heavily, still feeling Geordi’s hand over his thigh, his underwear getting tighter. He tried to collect his thoughts together, which were already getting clouded under waves of emotion. He was about to reply but the words — it didn’t matter what they were — died on his lips as Geordi’s hand inched upwards. Barclay’s breath hitched, and taking this as a sign, Geordi kept going until his hand was completely buried under the yellow fabric and Barclay had to bite his tongue not to make noise. He gripped the tool harder as he continued working, eyes forward yet his mind not at all there, and when he felt the hand rub his thigh up and down, his own hand waivered; the object in his hand hitting one of the metal rods and letting the sound echo, amplifying their seclusion.

“Be careful now,” Geordi kept whispering against his ear, as if he didn’t just say what he said, his warm breath sending a horde of goosebumps down Barclay’s legs and he swallowed heavily — it dropped clumsily down into his stomach as Geordi’s hand travelled just a bit further, fingertips drawing lazy circles on his inner thigh and Barclay sighed. Then Geordi moved even closer, his hand still on his thigh pressing on a bit harder, and he moved his other arm over Barclay’s working one. “See?” Geordi put his palm over Barclay’s and Barclay exhaled sharply, the warmth of Geordi’s hand over his almost shocking. “This is how you reroute the impulses without causing a chain reaction.” Geordi tightened his grip on Barclay’s hand and moved them together, re–aligning the circuits and Barclay didn’t have to turn his head to know that Geordi had the tip of his tongue stuck out between his teeth in concentration as he usually did while working, but he wanted to turn around so much; he wanted to drop the work and turn around and kiss Geordi until they both were gasping for air.

Under Geordi’s clever hands, his arms felt a touch weaker but he didn’t let go of the façade completely, not yet. It was exciting to have him all to himself but right now something felt different, he felt exhilarated and didn’t know how long he could keep pretending. Barclay leaned his head to the right to hint at Geordi while giving him easier access to his neck, all while playing coy; Geordi caught on to what he was silently suggesting to pretty fast. Unsurprisingly, the first moan to escape was from Barclay, who could no longer hold onto staying unflustered once Geordi started peppering his neck with pecks.

As if on instinct, Barclay pressed his body back into Geordi’s, with Geordi’s hand under the now wrinkling fabric — Barclay ignored wanting the other hand on him as well, something felt incomplete. The warmth from Geordi dazzled him, as he leaned more into his body, a sensation of need searing through him. While Geordi was still keeping his neck, jaw, warm, he gingerly moved his hand up Barclay’s leg, all while hearing the noises and wishing he could see him — really see him, see his reactions to what was being done to him.

Another unconcealed moan slipped out when Geordi went past his upper thigh, the hem of the skirt riding up along and exposing bare white skin, and he felt Barclay’s hips buck reflexively against his palm when he hooked two fingers over the elastic band of his underwear. Barclay felt like he was keeping it together, to the best of his ability, at the same time as Geordi was pulling him apart and that last move made him breathe out Geordi’s name, just above a whisper. When hearing that, Geordi removed his hand from under the skirt and heard a follow–up groan from Barclay, likely from the severed contact.

Feeling wound up to a dizzying point, Barclay broke his front and turned his head back to face Geordi, his face frozen for a minute just to examine him. His big brown eyes got lost in the sight that he was missing, even if the absence was just for a little while. The strain collecting at his nape held a noticeable sting but it was nothing compared to the wave of yearning he felt for Geordi’s closeness. He let out a muffled sound when Geordi met his mouth with his, and the position he was in was less than ideal, possibly something to regret in a couple hours, but in the moment he couldn’t care if it broke him in half.

The first touch of Geordi’s lips almost made him feel giddy, and he couldn’t say whether it was the tight space around them that enhanced every feeling or if it was just him, so impossibly love–stricken that a simple kiss almost made his heart beat right out of his chest. Barclay felt a little sheepish, again, embarrassed as he thought what Geordi would think if he found out just how deeply it ran for him and how intoxicating every touch was for him.

However, every thought went right out when Geordi’s hand made its way back onto Barclay’s thigh and he shivered: he needed to have Geordi as close as possible. He put down what he was holding and clumsily pulled back from Geordi, who unintentionally let out a small groan of protest; to hear and feel Geordi be so open with him made Barclay’s own need feel urgent. He turned so that his whole body faced Geordi, and while lacing his fingers with Geordi’s, he maneuvered their bodies so that he was sitting on his knees with Geordi slotted between them; with one hand, Barclay pressed against Geordi’s firm chest and he laid his back on the ground. The hem of the skant was suddenly tightened and rode up his legs again, and Barclay caught Geordi sneaking a quick glance; he felt a thrilling rush. He could see Geordi’s chest rising and falling with a new quickness and internally beamed at the sight, feeling a sprout of pride at being able to have such an effect. With his own short breaths, he adjusted himself over Geordi’s reclined body, feeling a deep rush of heat in his abdomen; he looked at him with his lips parted.

“You’re slacking off work, Lieutenant,” Geordi raised his eyebrows and held a small, almost sly smile as both of his hands ran up his legs and stopped just below his hips, buried under the skirt. In turn, Barclay swiftly lowered his body down, essentially shutting him up with an open mouthed kiss, swallowing a quiet chuckle falling from Geordi’s lips, his left hand scrunching up the fabric of Geordi’s shirt as he did so. Seeing as they crossed a line together with no one aware, Barclay felt a sense of bravery he never would have outside their quarters, but that was probably thanks to their setting.

Barclay exhaled, louder than was needed, his skin pink with heat; he was a delightfully indecent sight for Geordi to gaze up at. Barclay pulled away just slightly, the intricate workings of the VISOR just barely in the focus, and he once again wondered how Geordi was perceiving him right now. “I cannot allow my officers to let loose like that,” Geordi whispered into his mouth, still smiling just a little; his tone was nothing if overly flirty, but a prickle of shame still gnawed at him, the old fear of misinterpreting hints making itself known, but Barclay pushed against it.

“Should I,” he swallowed heavily, working his vocal chords into making his tone as equally flirty, “should I leave?” his eyes dropped to Geordi’s jawline, where he caressed it with his thumb.

“Hey, no,” Geordi breathed out a laugh and Barclay felt his hands moving up his thighs under the skirt of the skant. Barclay shivered, raising his eyes back at Geordi’s face; wetting his own mouth, he looked at Geordi’s, aching to kiss him again. “We still got a couple of circuits to align here and there,” Geordi’s low tone didn’t fail to tug at Barclay’s insides even once and he sighed, biting on his lower lip.

He pretended to ponder on it, revelling in the flirtations. “Should I,” he began, stretching the words out on purpose, “get to work then?” with that he rolled his hips a little, grinding down over Geordi where he was half–hard already, causing him to exhale sharply and Barclay’s own desire pooled lazily in his lower body. He refined his movements, controlling the pacing of the friction with his hips; each thrust making him shiver and quietly pant. A part of him didn’t want Geordi to see him become undone at the seams so fast, especially after putting on an air of assertiveness, practically calling to this thing they were both trying to avoid, but hearing Geordi’s shallow breaths pulled him out of it; Barclay needed to hear him more and feel him more. He sped up his motions by a bit, meanwhile Geordi let his hands glide up Barclay’s skin, hearing a suppressed moan when both hands firmly cupped his ass; that alone was enough for Geordi to feel just how hard Barclay was at that point.

His own breathing was catching up to Geordi’s as the continued friction made his insides burn up, almost incinerating him from the inside out; out of most of his paranoid moments, he wouldn’t mind if this were the event to actually cause his imminent death. The current predicament they were in exhilarated him but he needed them to move forward somehow, or else he felt like he might break apart and they brought their mouths together again.

Barclay’s hands continued their way up, rubbing up just slightly as his tongue slid against Geordi’s and he couldn’t help bucking his hips into his one more time; Geordi’s fingers dug harder into the meat of his thighs as Barclay rolled his hips again. He had no idea where this was heading and he didn’t care much — he could stay there like this for what seemed like forever. As Barclay’s hands cupped Geordi’s face, his thumbs stroking his cheeks aimlessly as he deepened the kiss and Geordi’s hands went higher again, hiding under the skirt. Barclay exhaled loudly, not breaking the kiss and then—

“Commander La Forge,” Barclay jolted upright, snatching his hands off Geordi’s face as if it burned just as Geordi’s combadge ringed and Geordi grunted, banging the back of his head on the floor lightly.

He reluctantly moved his right arm from Barclay’s body to click on his combadge. “La Forge here,” he replied, his annoyance way too obvious even for someone on the other side of the com. The rude awakening caused a tear in the fabric of their little universe.

“Commander, we really need your help down at the warp core,” Barclay recognised Ensign Lark, the one who always kinda looks at him weirdly and almost rolled his eyes.

“Is it urgent?” Geordi asked, this time at least trying to hide that he was really, really annoyed and Barclay bit his lip, smiling; he didn’t dare to move, however, but he felt another rush of goosebumps down his leg as Geordi’s other hand was still holding onto his hip, thumb drawing circles.

“No, but,” the ensign paused, “we might need your command codes for this diagnostic, sir.”

Geordi sighed, and his tone made Barclay’s heart sink the tiniest bit.

“I’ll be down there soon. La Forge out,” and he clicked his badge again.

Barclay lowered his body down again, cupping Geordi’s face in his palms again and Geordi beamed at him again, as his other hand made its way back onto Barclay’s thigh. Barclay gave him a thin smile in return, feeling all too gloomy for having to leave their little hiding place but more importantly, he hated leaving Geordi’s warmth; he already missed it even though their bodies were still pressed against one another. Barclay pressed his knees a little closer into the outer sides of Geordi’s thighs.

“Ready to get back out there?” Geordi whispered into his mouth, hands back to caressing Barclay’s thighs.

Barclay swallowed, eyes dropping to Geordi’s mouth, thumbs rubbing circles on the soft skin just below the VISOR. “Could we,” Barclay bit his lip quickly and swallowed heavily, the back of his neck hot, “could we stay for just five more minutes?” He lifted his eyes back up.

Geordi chuckled, smiling again. “Sure,” he nodded and Barclay exhaled almost with relief. “Whatever you want, baby,” Geordi kept smiling, the endearment making something bloom deep within Barclay’s chest and he smiled back sheepishly, lowering his gaze again; he brought one of his hands just a little lower with a soft touch, thumb lightly ghosting over Geordi’s lower lip. He looked up again, just barely seeing the whites of Geordi’s eyes in between the bars of his VISOR; for a hundredth or maybe a thousandth time he wondered, what Geordi was seeing right now or how he was seeing _him_ , because every single time Geordi gave him that kind of smile Barclay felt his ears tingle.

“Hi,” Geordi whispered, still smiling wide and Barclay wished he could take a picture. Maybe Data could’ve painted it.

“Hi,” Barclay replied, also whispering, not being able to help his own smile as he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Geordi.

Geordi licked his lips — just a touch of his pink tongue over his lower lip; Barclay’s gaze dropped down and he ached to kiss him again but for the sake of them both needing to get out of there soon he couldn’t do much, otherwise it would be just further fanning the flames. Geordi felt that too, as it seemed, as his hands moved up Barclay’s body, resting on his waist and he swallowed after taking a deep breath, clearly trying to get his bearings. Barclay couldn’t help himself and brought their mouths together again: it was more of a peck than a kiss, his lips just barely grazing Geordi’s and then he moved his face to the side, his cheek sliding against Geordi’s and he inhaled deeply, closing his eyes shut, just enjoying the press of Geordi’s body against his, still holding his face in his hands and he felt Geordi tightening his grip on his body.

In what felt like way too soon, Barclay let out a quiet sigh and raised himself up and moved up from Geordi somehow awkwardly and almost banging his head on the ceiling. He gave Geordi way, as he let his head rest against the wall as he let his body slide down, practically sulking as he watched Geordi carefully crawl out. Soon enough, he exited the Jefferies tube as well, only to wince at the Engineering lights, making him miss the dim, warm ambiance of the tubes just a little more. Geordi pulled his shirt down with two hands, nervously clearing his throat and Barclay mimicked him by straightening out his wrinkled skirt; creases in the fabric remained where Geordi’s hands were, under – he tried to ignore the memory, its ghost haunted his body. His face still burned, while his body still felt wound up and, as pathetic as it felt, he wanted to ask Geordi if he felt the same.

“Well,” Geordi faced him, still a flirtatious touch hiding in his tone, “I’ll see you later ba–,” he cleared his throat again, “Uh, B–Barclay. Lieutenant,” He glanced at Barclay, only to immediately dip his chin down again.

A lieutenant at a nearby control panel did a quick turnaround to give Geordi a confused yet sour look. It lasted about a second but it burned itself in Barclay’s mind, and as he watched Geordi nervously trail off, he imagined Geordi felt no different.

Yet, simultaneously, any feelings conjured in that tight space he thought was gone, now that they had to face the dullness of their reality, had immediately become rekindled, and he could only pray none of it showed on the surface of his skin. His eyes widened, and he managed to stifle a gasp; he was dying to ask Geordi to repeat himself, but he couldn’t do that, not in the middle of Alpha shift and he certainly couldn’t undermine Geordi’s rank like that. He decided he would bite his tongue, straighten his body, and get some work done; he knew he always had two familiar faces to end the day with.

Tonight would be no different.

––

Throughout his shift, his eyes gravitated towards the clock. He didn’t dislike his job, he was just… distracted. By the afternoon he was breaking down how many 10–minute intervals he had to get through until he could be back under a warm embrace.

Barclay was wrapped up in his thoughts, so much so that had Data been there, he would’ve told the lieutenant that his clumsiness had increased by 4.5%. But that was the problem; Data wasn't there, and Geordi kept getting busier and busier. He just had to grit his teeth.

Nine more minutes.

––

The buzz of urgency in his chest loosened almost immediately when he heard the doors _whoosh_ right behind him. Clearly, Geordi’s absence was due to his busier schedule but Barclay felt thankful to see Data sitting peacefully at the couch; that warm feeling following him all day tripling in size at the android’s sight. They exchanged hellos, Barclay nearly beaming as he made his way over and sat on the opposite side of him. Something in his stomach was already fluttering but he was cautious to not smother Data immediately, he held back – as much as he could, that is. He placed his arm over the top of the couch, fully turning his body left, giving all his attention. He was careful to move his legs accordingly, knees together, so as to not accidentally flash Data. After exchanging hellos, Data looked at him, from bottom to top, causing Barclay to pull down the skirt shyly, with no effect, and before Barclay could say anything, Data commented that a skant wasn’t something he would usually wear. Barclay drew a small, quick breath but Data cut him off again:

“It is exceptionally revealing.” Data’s observation sounded more scientific than flirtatious but it still kindled heat over Barclay’s face, up to his ears. He drew his knees closer to the cushion, making himself more comfortable and finally shuffled just a little closer to Data. “Just a little something I threw on,” Barclay replied, his hand fiddling to stop itself from reaching over and touching Data. “That wasn’t— wasn’t my aim.”

Data moved just an inch closer, sitting a little more forward now; he was picking up on Barclay’s cues, acting accordingly and reciprocating. Barclay noticed. “Regardless of your aim,” he stated, “the tailoring compliments your legs.”

Data returning all the physical cues was exciting him but the comment hit him right in the chest, making him quietly exhale. He blinked rapidly, face feeling warmer by the minute, catching a view of Data’s face between intervals as he muttered a small thanks. His body was much, much closer to Data’s and yet not close enough; not knowing what to do with the silence, one of his hands – just inches away from Data’s – nervously gripped at the cushions. Data parted his legs the smallest bit, a detail that would go unnoticed by anyone else. “How–,” Barclay’s voice wavered just a small bit, his eye catching Data’s legs, and then peeling them away, “how was the mission?” He looked back up at Data expectantly, as if this innocent question had no subtext to it whatsoever. He fidgeted, his right knee inching upwards, causing his thighs to rub together.

“It took much longer than was originally expected,” Data began, explaining mundane details as Barclay reached a hand over to his collar, absentmindedly fiddling with it as he listened, “It was an arduous shift. However, I do feel I am able to unwind now that I am off–duty. With you.” He placed a pale hand just above Barclay’s knee, who in turn held the collar in his hand a little tighter, chest heaving a little heavier than before. The rest of Barclay’s untouched skin felt cold, his eyes dropped down over Data’s lips. “I missed you, Data.”

The confession was always there in his mind, but he didn’t mean for it to slip out so quickly, all he could do is look back at Data and wait for his reaction. It looked like Data was silently mulling over the words, analyzing all four of them. Barclay was still waiting for a response when, to his surprise, Data bridged what little gap was left between them and placed his free hand under Barclay’s jaw and kissed him, while Barclay felt the other hand move up slowly over his thigh. Without breaking it, he sighed into it with a desperate sound, his hand finding its way up Data’s nape, threading his fingertips between locks of dark hair. Unable to ignore his want, brows furrowed, his mouth went slack against Data’s, his entire body burning up by the second. Data pulled back, immediately hearing a muffled whine from the back of Barclay’s throat; his eyes scanned over Barclay. Data could see all the signs of arousal triggered across his body, and realizing he was eliciting such a human reaction made him whir. Barclay could already hear the faint droning of the fan in his internal cooling system.

“Judging by your reaction, it is evident that you indeed, as you put it, missed me,” Data said, his thumb stroking Barclay’s cheek in small, slow circles. Barclay’s breath hitched and let out a shuddered sigh; as Data paused, Barclay began worrying about his eagerness, whether he came on too strong. His internal monologue dissolved just as Data said: “I appear to have missed you, too.”

He felt the impact of the affirmation, as simple as it was, right in his chest, desire burning in him. He wanted Data right where he was and yet, more, as well. This time he took initiative instead, pulling Data closer by grabbing his shirt with both hands, feeling an urgency to feel the bioplast against his face, his lips. Even with skin to skin contact, a part of Barclay needed more, like the only solution would be to merge his body right with Data’s.

Barclay, now with his hands on Data’s shoulders, gently pushed him back so that his body lightly sank into the soft cushion, taking note of Data’s increasing attempts to collect more air – his systems were slightly malfunctioning, feeling a spark of excitement at what he managed to pull out of the so–called ‘emotionless’ android. He propped himself up, moving his legs so that he could place himself over Data’s lap; his spread legs forming tight creases, making the skirt ride up, just a little, modesty be damned. Data’s hands immediately found Barclay’s waist, accentuated by the fit of the dress, and later slid down and held his hips, the skin buried under the layers there burning. Meanwhile, Barclay dipped his head down to meet Data in a lazy embrace while his hands worked to undo Data’s collar, ultimately loosening the fabric over his body, just to get a little closer. Mid–kiss, Barclay’s hands moved south, working to undo the button and zipper of Data’s trousers, and once he managed to get a nervous hand through the black fabric, he heard a shuddered gasp from Data. Barclay knew he had to go slower than he was aching to, but all of Data’s little reactions made his head spin, he just wanted Data on him, to do everything that crossed his mind throughout the day.

He finally felt how much heavier his breaths got when he pulled back, to find Data looking right at him, making him crumble and look away – first looking at his lips, then finally curving towards the left, staring at nothing. He was right where he wanted to be, but he couldn’t remain stagnant like this forever.

“Would–,” Barclay interrupted himself, recollecting his thoughts, feeling a deeper heat tint his face. He laid his hands on Data’s thighs, slowly moving his hands up and down, warmth blooming from the friction as he failed to even out his laboured breaths. “Would you let me show you how much?”

He shifted his gaze downwards, coincidentally landing right at Data’s semi–exposed, well, _semi_. The initial heat on Barclay’s face immediately traveled down, all over his own body, making him cruelly aware of his own needs. He could feel Data’s quickening breaths hitting his skin, really _seeing_ this much impact on his near–perfect engineering made something flutter in him.

The increased contact, the closeness, it all made Data process information a little less efficiently than he normally did, and all Barclay wanted to do was to push his circuits, just a bit. Data did a quick inhale, the typical one just before he would say anything, causing Barclay to look up at him, lips barely parted.

“Reginald,” Data began, slowly; whether to consider his words or because he needed more time due to all the sensory stimuli, Barclay didn't quite care, “You can clearly see that your close proximity to me has powered up my sexuality program.” The impact of the words hit Barclay immediately, with a subconscious urge leading him to open his legs just an inch further apart as he felt himself getting hard, the fabric feeling more constrictive. “Your behavior is,” Data continued after a beat, “very tantalizing.” Barclay punctuated Data’s sentence with an open–mouthed kiss, lazy and wanting, his hands wandering to help Data clumsily get the obstructive trousers out of the way once and for all.

He felt like his limbs were large and clumsy, like he was getting in his own way somehow and despite it all, he tried to keep a clear head. Slowly, he got himself off of Data, clinging to one of his shoulders for balance, and with four hands, the clothing was discarded. His eyes lingered over the tent between Data’s legs, and when he managed to peel his eyes off to meet Data’s, he felt his ears burn as he realized Data was watching him. Without another word, Barclay dropped to his knees, slotted himself between Data’s legs, his heart beating somewhere in his throat as he lifted his hands, hooking his fingers behind the waistband of Data’s underwear and pulled down the last obstructive piece of clothing.

Data was hard and once Barclay pulled the garment off, his cock sprang back up, leaning towards Data’s pale belly. The hum of the fans of Data’s inner cooling system grew a pitch louder instantly — Data’s chest didn’t raise and fall when he breathed but the increasing hum that sometimes broke its steady rhythm was an even better alternative; Barclay felt his mouth water as he couldn’t dare to look up. Data’s cock was as pale as the rest of Data with minor anatomical differences and Barclay licked his lips, his hands returning back on Data’s body and reluctantly wrapped his hand around his cock — he wanted to rush it so badly, feeling his own underwear tight, stretching out the fabric of the skant, feeling like he might just start rutting against the edge of the couch, but he couldn’t make himself do so.

Swallowing heavily, he looked up at Data sheepishly and was met with what seemed like a blank stare but he knew Data better that — the hum of his inner workings increased rapidly and Data’s mouth was parted just slightly and Barclay wrapped his fingers just a little tighter, moving his hand up and down without breaking the eye contact, his own mouth agape. He gently swiped his thumb over the slit at the end of Data’s member, the android equivalent of pre–come collected on his thumb and heard a noise from Data, his hips involuntarily raising up to his hand; subdued and quiet, yet knowing him, he internally knew he was doing something right. When his strokes became slicker and the cock in his hand felt harder, Barclay didn’t waste any more time; he licked at the end, having been eager to taste him since he got his large hands under Barclay’s dress the first time. There was a thin line of coolant fluid on Barclay’s face, just to the left of his mouth’s corner; he briefly raised his eyes back at Data, meeting his gaze and, struck with a whim, licked it off. It elicited another noise from Data, a little less controlled now, to his possible dismay, leaving Barclay to feel heat curling deeper in him. At times, Data looked like he was losing his control, the kind that differentiated him from everyone else, and as Barclay watched him clumsily fuck into his hand, he felt a surge of emotions from seeing Data’s humanness sprout from the feelings overriding the rigidity he was so used to, knowing that they both ached for more.

Hearing the shuddered gasp from Data when he took him in his mouth only coaxed Barclay to continue. He fully intended to loosen Data’s inner workings, and thaw him out — if he could manage that with just his mouth, he would ride that high forever. His hand continued working at the base of Data’s cock while he tried to focus on using his mouth, every now and again making a soft noise from the back of his mouth, quietly taking note of the things that make Data stutter and shake. Data’s large hand landed on Barclay’s cheek and Barclay looked up again, as Data caressed his face and just the sight of him with his eyes half–lidded, yellow, patchy blush spread over his cheeks, going down his neck almost made Barclay stop in his tracks, but he closed his eyes and sucked in harder.

“Reginald…” The tiny static crack of Data’s voice didn’t escape Barclay and he couldn’t help moaning around Data’s cock, closing his eyes tighter.

Barclay pulled up, Data’s cock slipping out of his mouth with a lewd sound and he wrapped one of his hands around it instantly, pumping lightly as he raised his eyes at Data. It was a sight to behold: Data was looking at him back, his eyes half–lidded, he was breathing in heavy puffs, though his chest wasn’t raising and falling but Barclay listened closer to the sounds of his inner cooling system whirring and it made his insides burn. He lowered his head back, tilting it and mouthing at the side of Data’s cock, while still continuing moving his hand. Data let out a tiny gasp and Barclay shut his eyes trying to conceal another moan, moving his mouth over the length, the texture on his tongue too smooth and extraordinary and yet all too enticing; he couldn’t stop.

“You are taking advantage of my lack of a refractory period,” Data said above him and Barclay felt brave enough to hum in agreement over Data’s cock, the vibrations making Data gasp again. Barclay wrapped his fingers tighter as he stroked downwards and moved his mouth up, taking Data into his mouth again, deeper this time.

Data, with his sexuality program _up_ and running full speed, could feel his efficiency levels dropping further, with the tell–tale hum of the fans under his skin working overtime just to keep up with Barclay. With a repetitive roll of Data’s hips, he began fucking Barclay’s mouth, who by now had removed his hand so he could take Data in deeper. Barclay noticed his jaw ache, quickly forgetting it as Data started writhing more, and faster, as he got closer; his loudness getting less concealed, his otherwise placidity unraveling as he grabbed a fistful of Barclay’s hair from the back of his head, as if to guide him through what he knew more than well enough.

Data’s eagerness only enticed Barclay further; trying to remain focused and not reach a hand down between his thighs despite feeling himself get more and more turned on as he heard each moan from Data, growing louder and tinnier. At its simplest explanation, Barclay just liked having this effect on him, chest blooming with want and pride as his two hands ran up Data’s legs and rested at the thighs, fingertips sinking into the soft skin there; he bobbed his head forward further, causing Data to erratically buck his hips once more, a metallic, crackling whine escaping as his once perfect body was now stuttering. Barclay, his cheeks hollowed out as he sucked, mouth and lips slicked with pre–come, looked up at him — sending a jolt of electricity down Data’s spine and in a series of short, frantic movements, with an unconscious surge making him rock his hips, Data’s body shuddered as he came into Barclay’s open, eager mouth – he clenched, preserving the fleeting moment and in seconds, his entire body collapsed backwards on the cushions. Barclay swallowed it almost immediately – his mouth feeling warm, an ache at the corner of his jaw, and feeling impossibly hard – and looked up at Data with a flushed face, examining the effects the aftermath had on Data. He shimmied out of his underwear, noting a wet patch that made its way all the way up to the fabric of the skant and rose up to sit on Data’s lap, finally kicking it off from his ankles. He kissed Data, who in turn, of course met him halfway, his mouth hot and wanting. He felt Data’s big hands finding their place on his body, one on the small of his back and the other on his waist, helping him shift his body so that he was straddling Data again.

Barclay felt more fired up than anything, and the added touch did nothing to help his more–than–obviously hard cock, blanketed under the thin yellow fabric, and feeling it push against Data’s thigh knocked a gust of breath out of him. “Touch me,” he pleaded in between ragged breaths, his face feeling hot as he felt embarrassment over his honesty, “please.” He realized how much he needed the close contact – how much he needed _Data_. Data looked directly back at him, hand moving from Barclay’s waist to his cheek, thumb swiping the skin.

“I have every intention to.”

It was so gentle that Barclay had no words to say back but to let his face fall right into Data’s palm, like a relieved sigh, letting Data pull his face into his for another breathless kiss. Barclay moaned into the kiss, shamelessly, wrapping his arms around Data’s neck and then inhaled sharply when Data fumblingly pulled his body closer and Barclay’s hard cock bumped into Data’s; Data was already hard, _again_ , and he had to sever the kiss to take a deep breath, because he already felt that he was not going to last long. Data lowered his other hand, palm landing onto Barclay’s other thigh as Barclay moved his head back a little, straining his neck to look Data in the eyes. Something curled in him, as Data was so close and looking right back at him. Barclay blinked, mesmerized, as Data’s hands moved higher up, under the edges of the skant and Barclay sighed, resisting the urge to roll his hips.

“This piece of clothing,” Data paused which was probably the only indicator of him being in a state of any sort of disheveledness; he looked like he was out of breath but he, in fact, wasn’t; however the sound of his voice was still causing an effect on Barclay nonetheless, “is not only revealing but it also allows for a better access,” Data continued as he tightened his grip on Barclay’s thighs.

Barclay pressed his forehead against Data’s, breathing heavily, feeling wrung out. Data’s hands moved back, fingers spread wide and he pressed his palms flat against Barclay’s buttocks, which made Barclay arch his back a little, pressing his body into Data’s more. Their cocks brushed again and Barclay closed his eyes, letting out a quiet moan that was just close enough to turn into a plea, urging Data to do something. Data moved a little, putting some distance between their heads and Barclay looked up, missing the touch in an instant, feeling a wave of embarrassment at how much he _wanted_ but Data didn’t tear away his gaze as he moved one of his hands away and then it appeared in Barclay’s field of vision. His gaze dropped towards it and his heart skipped a beat as he watched Data take two of his fingers into his own mouth; with bated breath and desire twisting in his lower stomach he watched Data suck on his fingers. Data didn’t move his eyes away as his fingers slipped out of his mouth carefully and Barclay raised his eyes, locked in a stare with Data, transfixed.

He glanced down at Data’s hand, partially coated in his own spit, glistening over his long, slender fingers, and he felt his own heart thrum against his ribcage as he watched the hand go down and disappear under the skirt; his whole body felt hot. Feeling dumbstruck by Data, the realization hit him only after he felt one of Data’s slicked fingertips circling his hole. He instinctively rolled his hips, in hopes of persuading Data to not linger and keep him waiting.

Once a finger entered, Barclay let out a loud exhale as one of his own hands immediately reached out and grasped Data by his shirt, practically leaving an indent in the sturdy fabric.

He dared to sneak a look at Data, who was struggling with regulating his breaths himself, but he was composed compared to Barclay practically writhing over his lap. He pulled his finger out, and with it, a needy whine from Barclay; he moved his free hand onto Barclay’s waist as if to keep him steady in place and pushed back in, hearing the noise crescendo. Barclay’s hips bucked, feeling like the pressure would have nearly broken him, feeling dizzy yet still wanting Data to keep working him open. “Data—,” the plea died as his voice gave out with a gasp, and Data took that as a cue to insert a second finger, knuckle deep. Barclay’s face burned and he buried it in the crook of Data’s neck; in the closeness, he realized how hot Data’s skin had become. He was reminded of Data’s cock, just as hard as his as he bumped against it again; he let out a muffled moan against Data’s skin and in turn, felt Data’s fingertips dig a little deeper into his waist. A sense of urgency surged through Barclay as he pulled his head back up but couldn’t bring himself to ask what he wanted, and Data wouldn’t do it unless he asked. He breathed out Data’s name again as he held Data’s hand and pulled the two digits out, briefly screwing his eyes shut as the feeling of emptiness washed over him, only making his need more saturated. He stroked Data a couple of times, spreading the leaking coolant all over the length, feeling him twitch in his hand. Finally, as he adjusted his hips, raising himself up on his knees, he slowly inched down, taking all of Data’s length and letting out an obscene, lingering noise, screwing his eyes shut tightly.

Data’s hands found their way onto Barclay’s waist, gripping tightly and lifted his hips slightly off the couch, thrusting up. In turn Barclay gripped Data’s shoulders, squeezing tightly and moaned again as he raised himself up and swiftly sank back down with Data’s push meeting him halfway. The sensation of Data’s fingers almost bruising his skin added up so much and he felt like an exposed wire; Data moaned as he pushed back in and out, quickening the pace and the wanton sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room. Barclay fell forward, wrapping his arms around Data’s neck, turning putty in his arms, moaning at every precise push and stretch of Data’s cock into his body; the low and steady hum emitting from Data’s body added up, pulsing with soft vibration and Barclay’s skin swallowed the impulses, his insides fizzing.

Data thrust up harder and Barclay moaned loudly into the crook of his neck but then Data stopped, wrapping his arms around Barclay’s body. He took a beat to take a deep breath, his heart drumming loudly in his ears and then Data spoke up.

“Reginald, I believe I am obliged to give you a warning.”

Barclay furrowed his brows, his mind a haze and only after a moment he pushed his voice to work.

“Wh–what,” breathing heavily, he lifted his head slightly, eyes skimming over Data, taking note of his ruffled hair that looked mesmerizing on him. “Warning about what?”

Data gave him a side glance and just only Barclay registered Data’s hands slid down his body, hooking below his knees and palms pressing over his lower back, and in the next moment Barclay got the air knocked out of him as he was lifted in the air. On instinct, he wrapped his arms tighter around Data and let out a high pitched yelp that turned into a broken moan as the maneuver changed the angle and Barclay felt his head spin from feeling Data inside of him. It was also the realization of how easy this was for him, to just lift him like that. Stupidly Barclay looked at his own dangling feet, realizing he was still wearing his boots. Data started moving and in a moment Reg was pressed against the opposite wall, the momentum resulting into another thrust and he moaned. Finally he had leverage to be able to look at Data again but Data was quicker than him, fingers bruising the backs of his thighs. Data thrust in and out and Barclay moaned, throwing his head back, hitting the wall but he couldn’t care less; the hem of the skant was digging into his thighs and his lower back felt a little sore but Data pushed again and then again, and Barclay’s hands slid down, gripping Data’s biceps.

Then Data stopped.

“Geordi, I was just thinking about you,” Data said in a calm tone and Barclay’s head snapped to the side towards the door, where Geordi was standing now with a slight smile over his face. Barclay didn’t even hear the doors open and he felt incredibly embarrassed but at the same time he felt laid bare in a way that made his cock twitch and he bit his lip.

“I see I’m late to the party,” Geordi said with a bit of a humour in his voice, moving towards them. Barclay felt strung out as he was squeezed between Data and the wall. Geordi walked up and drew Data in a kiss: watching them kiss always made Barclay’s heart prickle in some lovesick way but he felt he wasn’t gonna last much longer like this.

As if reading his mind, they severed the kiss; Barclay’s mind was too hazy to properly pay attention to what was happening but Data thrust in again, and then one more time and then he paused again. Barclay saw some movement and they exchanged some words; he dropped his gaze to watch carefully and saw that Data’s shirt was lifted up to his midsection, the stomach bioplast plate removed partially and Geordi’s hands were edging over his abdominal cavity.

Barclay’s eyes widened.

“Data, you ready?”

“Yes, Geordi, I believe you can begin,” Data turned his head towards Barclay. “Reginald, some additional sensations may transpire now.”

Barclay was still too on edge to react properly and then as Data started thrusting into his pliant body again, and he moaned. And then Data moaned, louder than before: with the corner of his eye Barclay saw Geordi’s hands move sharply and Data moaned again, his voice peppered with static. He pushed in again and Barclay threw his head back, his toes curling in his boots. As Data set into a rhythm, his moans were rhythmic too; he lowered his gaze again, drinking in Data’s disheveled state and then all he could see was a flick of Geordi’s wrist before a shockwave struck through his body and he moaned loudly.

“Data-–Data, Geordi,” his voice broke into a high prolonged moan as the strong vibrations emitting from Data’s cock inside of him shook him apart. Data did not stop moving, picking up pace instead, letting out his own moan, his voice processors barely holding up. “Please, please, _please_ ,” Barclay chanted, thrashing against the wall, seeing nothing but a bright flash of burning pleasure searing through him; the hum of the vibration was filling him up to the brim, he could barely feel his fingers where he was gripping Data’s shoulders.

Delicately, with stuttered precision, Geordi’s fingers kept intertwining with the wires on Data’s stomach, experimentally feeling and flicking, with the additional gratification of seeing it spark from Data to Barclay. The writhing android’s skin felt hot against Geordi’s lips pressed against it; his internal systems working twice as hard. Through the fog of his lust, his hand clumsily knocked into a collection of cables, where the unintended aggression made Data loudly react, then temporarily stagger. Urging for more, he pressed himself against Geordi, slightly moving Barclay along, who was more than happy to remain pliant under Data’s hands.

At intervals he caught glimpses of Data, as his voice crescendoed along with him, except it crackled and fizzled out and began again. He realized at some point, the top part of his uniform had loosened, someone had unbuttoned it at the top where his neck could breathe a little but it only emphasized the constriction around his waist and thighs; it exhilarated him, being locked between Data and the surface digging into his back. Data’s hands never slipped from their hold on his legs, but as his thrusts became more erratic, so did the stability of his fingers; they dug into his skin, bleeding bruises into his paleness. The vibration stuttered and Barclay choked on a moan; Data’s voice crackled again as he kept thrusting and with each thrust Barclay felt like the lights were getting punched out of him.

“Geordi,” Barclay moaned, turning his name into a plea, his hazy mind just barely connecting Geordi’s machinations in Data’s inner workings to the new additional function of his cock. The vibration was setting him on fire from the inside. Another jolt went all the way through his spine into the tip of each of his limbs and as Data made one rare odd push, Barclay opened his eyes and looked at Data and Geordi through a blur.

And then he was tipped over.

He was coming for what seemed like hours, the pulse of the vibration blaring all over through his body as Data didn’t stop pushing in and out rapidly; Barclay felt like he was immersed fully in water and he pushed his hands into a warp core and then saw a star go supernova.

Barclay partially came to his senses when he realized that everything went quiet and his feet were touching the ground, though he could barely remember how to control his shaking legs and he felt a shadow of gratitude for whoever was supporting his body by holding him, who probably thought the same. The bed was right there and in a moment he was laying down, fully melting into the sheets and he took his time to rub his eyes and he saw Data standing by the edge of the bed.

“Reginald, how are you feeling?” there was a shadow of concern on his face.

Geordi pushed a glass of water into his hand and after Barclay moved his gaze over at him, he realized he was smiling: wildly and uncontrollably.

“I’m, uh,” he was still out of breath and he raised himself up on his elbows, his arms spasming. “That was– something,” he let out a laugh and raised the glass to his mouth absently and downed in three large gulps. “What was– how did that even happen?”

“It was a new sexual subroutine I had installed,” Data began. “During my last weekly diagnostic Geordi found out it could get triggered by stimulating certain components near my base coolant system that also result in pleasurable sensations for me as well.”

“We thought we’d tell you right away but then Data was called for that mission and it kinda slipped and,” Geordi shrugged. “Well, you know the rest.”

Barclay fell back onto the bed, eyes staring into the void of the ceiling. “I still can’t feel my legs.”

“The sensation should not have disappeared completely and if that is the case, we should bring you along to the sickbay immediately–“

“Data, I promise, I’m, ah, fine,” still struggling to breath evenly, he raised himself on his elbows back. As he looked at Geordi’s smiling face again, he was as if struck. “Wait,” he rasped out, “Geordi you were– when did you–,” he looked him up and down. “Did you…?”

Geordi shrugged. “I walked in on quite a scene. Considering our earlier run in the tubes, I didn’t take long,” Barclay felt his face get hot at the mention of that particular event. “I do need to change my clothes though. So do you,” he gestured over at Barclay himself and Barclay followed the movement looking down at his body.

“Aw,” he let out as he looked at the skant, covered in stains of a specific nature and even though he felt a little embarrassed, he still laughed quietly and took another deep breath, his heartbeat still drumming in his ears.

With the corner of his eyes he saw Data walk back to the edge of the bed, changed back into a fresh uniform set. “Although you do not have to take it off just yet.”

From where Data was standing, Barclay looked beautifully disheveled; he quietly wished to save what he was seeing as an internal photograph. Barclay still had stray strands of hair sticking to his temples, and although in the cool–down his skin had returned to its pale hue, his cheeks and lips remained a bright pink. Ghosts of small bruises were circling his thighs, and the skant itself looked nowhere near regulation appropriate: ignoring the dents and stretches, the frayed threads, the mark left behind was hard to ignore. Data observed all the little details of the aftermath over his body, something in him fizzing with adoration.

**Author's Note:**

> If you see any typos its b/c this was tiring. Hope you enjoyed though !!


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